Family

One day I stood outside the orphanage
in doubt, like the day before, and before
that. Twenty-two and unmarried, I saw
a girl, frantic on the phone with her mom;
a child, sobbing and scolded by dad for
losing his little red balloon; and an
older brother who wouldn't wait for his
younger brother. Then, I saw a girl, red-

ribboned, cheery, and lovely, skipping home.
She stopped next to me, like a lady-bug
on my hand, and said, "This was my sister's
home," and galloped off, reinless. I opened
the door and met the manager, Mother
Chelsea, with a child, shy, holding her arm.


- Bob Richardson